Recovery
by Werewolf of Fire
Summary: The Chess have been defeated and all is well in the world of MAR. Unless you considered Peta's feelings. How does one get over the death of a loved one? Slowly, painfully...


**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. In other words, all the original characters and the original series plot belong to Nobuyuki Anzai, and I make no money off this. The OCs, however, belong to me!

**Warnings: **OOCness (I tried!), blatant yaoi, creepy thoughts, angst (lots of it), swearing, lemon in the last chapter (it's not going to be posted on here) and lime before then (which means references to sexual acts and kissing). Also: _This fic holds some fairly major spoilers for my fic 'Home'. _So if you don't want to spoil it, don't read this. And finally, all spelling/grammatical errors are my own. If you spot some mention them and I will fix them.

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**Recovery**

**Chapter One: Acknowledgement**

The room was murky, much darker than his as black as the night sky, old robes had been. It was small, and seemed to consist of a bed and a dresser and a metre squared of walking space between the two rickety objects. The lonely window that was hung upon the northern wall was closed and covered by one of the few varicoloured shirts he'd been given as a show of Nanashi, the Leader of the Luberia Thieves Guild's hospitality. Peta hadn't liked the shirt (it was _yellow_ for God's sake) and he'd thought it made for a good, make-shift curtain as it didn't allow the majority of the frigid moon's sunlight into his crowded, mute room. However, a sharp dagger of icy blue light pierced through the tangible silence and ran across the eastern wall from one of the tears in the once cheaply made garment. Peta found himself attempting to avoid its mocking gaze from where he was curled up on his bed, under a mountain of blankets and still shivering despite them.

The moon was no friend of his. Its once comforting presence in the night sky was no longer such, as it slowly, achingly, torturously ripped at him, as though it had made a habit of pulling a strand of his heart away a centimetre at a time. It felt worse than when his mother had passed away, her eyes blank and her soul tarnished by his own misdeeds as his childhood naivety finally destroyed something he'd truly cherished.

His mind circled that thought, like lionesses did their prey, as Peta focused on her expression whilst she slept eternally. The memory dated back to when he was still a child, full of hope, the desire to please others and whatever other types of self-indulgent foolishness he'd decided to participate in. The memory still caused him to close his eyes and shiver as though a drop of icy water had trickled down between his shoulder blades; she'd been dreadfully twisted, as though dropped like a dull, old rag doll.

Peta had always wondered what feelings death brought upon a person's soul as it left their body for an unexplored world that piqued Peta's curiosity in his theory filled mind even more than his first ponderings did. He'd been somewhat sceptical about the entire process; how could one's heart stopping feel like falling asleep? How could dying be a peaceful process? When muscles didn't do as they were supposed to they hurt, so why was the heart treated as thought it acted differently?

For him dying had been an odd experience. Educational, but unusual nonetheless. In the end, he'd found death to be a two sided coin; one side scratched out and grated down to near nothingness, whilst the other bore few cuts or scratches at all. His body had been the damaged side; he'd felt the pain of being stabbed and the raging buzz that crawled beneath his skin as he was electrocuted, the current like needles piercing his yellow stained flesh. He'd also felt himself being washed with despair and a numbness that made his fingers tingle unpleasantly, as though he'd fallen asleep on them. However, his mind hadn't felt the blows Nanashi had dealt him, the smoother, identifiable side of the coin, as it worked and calculated, and determinedly told his body to move, move, _move_. His body hadn't been able to follow his orders, as he found himself drowning in a consuming blackness that dragged his mind down with it as it were an anchor for his unwilling mind. Even then, as he lay in his lumpy bed, Peta could recall the betrayal he'd felt towards his feeble body and the guilt that tore his innards from their correct places and stirred them relentlessly within his body's cavities as though they were nothing but ingredients in a putrid soup; His body couldn't take what his mind could for Phantom, it couldn't fulfil the promise he'd made.

Peta's heart wrenched from within his thin chest, as though it were being clawed at by a hissing cat, its nails like the sharpest of daggers as they latched on and _pulled_. This had been the reason he'd limited himself to pure and simple strategic stimulus during the first War Games! He knew his limits, he knew that his mind was his strongest limb; Peta had always been proud of it. However, Phantom had always egged him into fighting on the battlefield. He'd found Peta's hunger for blood - that made Peta both ache with need and sick to his stomach at the very thought of what he needed it for - amusing and utterly fascinating. Phantom's first defeat had sparked a conniving thread of stubborn determination that he hadn't thought existed within himself (as it went against all his logical ways), because he'd vowed to be strong enough to battle with any future foe that Phantom encountered.

Peta subconsciously searched the bed for Phantom's easily recognisable magical signature, but only found that the small expanse of bed in front and beyond him were bare. He felt an emptiness wash over him, into him at the realisation. It had been hard at first, Peta recalled, the training and the time without Phantom; he hadn't been unaccompanied in a long time before then. Phantom and he had been near inseparable, and his loneliness swallowed him as though he were nothing more than a berry to be suckled upon. He'd immediately drawn himself close to Phantom's little, adopted boy, Rolan, as they both took to training and existing together, like a frozen cat to a flickering and crackling fire. It had helped, but Rolan hadn't been Phantom, he'd never be Phantom, and the boy couldn't settle all of his needs.

Despite all of his training, his body had remained as frail as an elderly man's. It was prone to illness via the less than hot weather and his utter detestation of days that brought _wet _condition was completely justified as Peta's mind threw images of himself wrapped in layers of blankets and a smaller Rolan running about him collecting this and that whilst he sniffled and died on the bed. It grew worse without Phantom to harvest the drink he so needed, the drink Peta usually drank fresh, warm and crimson. Peta needed some form of blood in order to remain even slightly sane and had locked himself away when his urges made him growl and leer down at Rolan as he read or puttered about the garden, much like a starved wolf would do a plump, healthy hare. The boy had grown to understand him though, just as he had grown quite fond of the boy. Peta couldn't help but curse Rolan's very existence; he wouldn't be lying in the bed he was now if Rolan hadn't asked him to accompany him to Luberia. The child's damned, huge, wet eyes had once again been the cause of his undoing!

He shifted on the hard bed, pulling the blankets higher up on his grey covered shoulders as he buried his finely boned nose into the lumpy, grey stained pillow. He was lying on his mute yellow hair, causing his head to ache sharply as it was pulled and released at irregular intervals. Peta ignored it for the most part, his large, hazel eyes half closed as he glared into the darkness, his mind working far too much for how blank and lifeless he felt inside the rest of him. It was like dying again, however the entire process had been slowed down to an unbearable pace. His lungs, heart and limbs boiled with want as they ached and pushed Peta to do something with himself, his mind restless in the cramped space he'd taken residence in over the past few weeks. However, he could not scrape together the will to move. It was as though he were trapped beneath a few tonnes of stone, trying to move, struggling and clawing to free himself, but losing horrendously.

He would have laughed bitterly had he not been as content as he was whilst he frowned at the wall; Peta was sure he must have made a spectacle; he used to make a sport out of grinning maniacally, out of seeming completely unaffected by war, death and whatnot. Now he was sulking and feeling sorry for himself, a bland look upon his face as he lay about as though he were nothing but a lazy sod acting as a bed warmer for whatever man decided he could take sharing a bed with a yellow skinned, large eyed monster.

Peta almost willed his brain to have remained the pleasant black it'd been for the first few days after his rebirth. It had been like floating through a night sky, his mind in a daze as his stomach disappeared from his body and his limbs fell off. He'd been blissfully ignorant of Phantom's death. Perhaps he would have preferred to have rotted in the dingy room near the library he'd taken to calling his own? If Phantom wasn't alive, what was Peta's purpose in the world?

Peta hadn't thought of it in great detail until after he'd taken residence with the Luberian Thieves Guild. And he'd found he'd been hoping to be reincarnated as a being full of the innocence he so loathed. He found that he wanted to live as a child free of the world's taunting jeers. He'd wanted to be everything he hated, if only to see how he would have turned out in the end. He was bitter, inhumane, sadistic and manipulative. Would he have turned out such should he have had a different life? His mother had always remarked flippantly about his insatiable curiosity and how it would cause him suffering should he not be careful. What books could not feed, experiments and experiences did, and from within the consuming darkness that had been brought upon him by his purifying of the world, he found his mind wondering how Phantom was, who was dusting off his favourite books and whether the Chess had fallen. It had been a lovely, little, dark world, until the lantern one of the Royal Buffoons had pierced through the darkness and he'd been literally stumbled across by a few of the oafs that called themselves Lestavan guards.

Peta shifted, clutching the blanket over him as he drew his thin, long legs up to his chest in the futile effort to keep himself warm. He hadn't thought he'd be reborn into a world that was Phantom free, in the same body he'd always possessed, with the same thought patterns and beliefs he'd had before he'd first died. He hadn't thought that his rebirth would be into the same life he'd left behind a mere few days before. Peta couldn't see the fairness of the events that had played out. What was so fair about the anguished, turned tormentors being reborn to see what they had caused? Peta already knew the consequences of his actions, he gained a sadistic swelling of glee whenever he thought about it, like a child did when they received a present they'd always wanted. What would Anker and the other used-to-be children think of the scrawny, lanky, lemon skinned boy now that he'd basically aided in the destruction of more half of MAR? Peta couldn't help the way his lips quirked at the thought of their astonished, fear filled faces, contorted and radiating the fright and utter helplessness he'd felt whilst growing up under their baleful gazes.

He'd had his revenge. He'd destroyed and damaged many lives. He'd lost. The cycle was supposed to end with his death. He was supposed to be reborn and to have been made to live a life where he wasn't stared at because of the yellow dyed skin he so hated, but Phantom had found so, so intriguing. He wasn't supposed to possess eyes that were so large; Peta felt they were swapped by a cruel deity with those that had belonged to an owl. Phantom had liked them too, for some unfathomable reason. Just as he'd seemed to like Peta's skinny body, as feeble and brittle and bony as it was. Peta had taken to thinking Phantom as being completely insane. Much like the majority of the world's inhabitants, no doubt, though for definitely different reasons. He'd always thought Phantom was a tad odd in the head.

Peta shivered, his nose burying itself deep into the lumpy pillow, as he felt a ghostly, icy lick being bestowed upon his back, right between his shoulder blades. Such memories of Phantom… Peta almost wished he were rid of the memories; no one had ever touched him as Phantom had. No one had dared to. Not the _demon_. Of course, there had been his childhood sweetheart, however that had been abruptly ended, unsurprisingly he'd later deciphered. However, he and Eris had done little else but kiss and slide their hands over each other's bodies, anything more they'd firmly believed would wait until each of them were married. Mostly; Peta didn't deny that his actions as a youngster weren't the most proper or practiced and his now concrete self control had been severely lacking. Phantom, however…

Peta closed his eyes, almost praying to any divine being that was willing to listen that he could recall all of Phantom's terrible, torturous, improper, sweet and tender actions. He could barely feel the cool touch of questing fingers as they were drawn down his skinny chest, over smooth muscle that wasn't nearly as defined as the fingers' owner's body was, whilst the even icier lips bestowed far too tender kisses to the slender column of his throat and a regal nose buried in his dirty coloured hair. They were ethereal actions now, but Peta could remember when they made him gasp and flush – golden orange, because of his loathed skin colour – it was torturous to think of such things now when Phantom couldn't repeat his actions, but Peta did anyway. The ache in his joints and starting to grow in his groin were caused by the summoned memories that made him sigh and roll completely over onto his stomach, his grey-yellow hair splayed over him messily, like cut, deadened hay. Despite the stabbing pain in his chest, Peta remembered them all; he recalled them in their entirety, like a long film he could watch for hours upon hours. Perhaps if he did so often enough, it would be as though Phantom weren't gone at all. He knew Phantom well enough to imagine his living with him as he was now. It would be amusing, even if it drove others to think of him as insane (which they, most likely, already did), he suddenly mused.

The thought evoked a memory to spring forth vividly, like a frog willing to scare a small, curious child; he would have sworn that the dark grey, long sleeved shirt he'd adopted as his own were being lifted up at the back as his loose, equally grey, long pants being tugged down slightly and that his lower back was being tickled by cold fingers that were armed with pointed fingernails. At the same time, a frigid – everything was cold when it came to Phantom's limbs and appendages – pink tongue lathed itself over the valley between the dimples that graced his lower back. Such an action always used to make Peta hiss with annoyance whilst a scathing remark sat itself on his tongue, but Phantom – the child that he'd always been at heart – had never listened to his woes. He'd simply lathe his tongue over the spot before moving down, to areas that still caused Peta to glow with an uncomfortable heat.

Now that Peta was thinking about it all, now that Phantom was gone, when it came to their unmentionable activities, all his concerns were ignored. Peta could recall the whispered compliments and passion filled cries Phantom had made as they both tended to their most primal urges. Phantom had always made a point of moaning into his ears loudly, wantonly as though to soothe Peta's doubts about his own body and whether anyone could find pleasure in using or looking at it. Peta supposed that the man had grown tired of his self conscious ways and had sought to prove how much he'd enjoyed the body Peta hated with a scalding passion. He'd been relentless in his goal. Peta could recall the times when Phantom had brushed a hand over his cheek fondly, a tender look on his face as he disturbed his reading.

It was the same with Peta's far more inhumane tendencies. Like when Peta had felt the need to sink his talons into Phantom's cold flesh or bitten far too hard into the smaller man's shoulder and taken to lapping up the bright blue blood that had (tasted absolutely dreadful) leaked from Phantom's wounds; he'd always gasped and groaned and held onto him for dear life. Peta hadn't found that many would allow their lovers to basically rip them to shreds like Peta had done to Phantom, in all of his research. However, Phantom had returned his attention in kind, with his teeth bared and his deadened, indigo eyes glittering with sadistic and masochistic glee.

Peta's closed eyes scrunched together, like cloth in a clenched hand, as he remembered the searing pleasure that tipped and dipped into pain whenever Phantom callously drew his own nails down his long back, how he'd thrust too hard too soon and how he'd bite his lips until they bled or Peta flipped them over so he could thrust himself down onto Phantom harder. Phantom had always teased, _always _caused him to growl and hiss with frustration before he allowed them both a blinding, white completion. Oddly, Peta found himself missing the man's most aggravating actions, the man's annoying playfulness; such childish acts couldn't happen anymore, not with Phantom in an elaborately decorated jewellery box buried six feet under the ground. Dust and sand couldn't _fuck_ him into whatever surface Phantom had decided to take Peta upon. Such realisations – one's he'd already made several times over - caused Peta's chest to constrict, as though a python had wound itself around him and squeezed, squeezed, squeezed.

A sharp series of knocks echoed around the cramped room, causing Peta's eyes to fly to the thick, oak door on the Western wall. He supposed that was Rolan, coming to fetch him so that they could attend the _therapy _he was being forced into. He was to be counselled by Nanashi that day, after having sat through a torturous hour of staring off into the distance whilst Ginta rambled and attempted (atrociously) to make him talk about his _feelings_ and then another hour within the same room as the stammering Princess Snow. Neither seemed to realise that he didn't want to forget Phantom and that he didn't want to learn the proper, moral ways of the world that he already knew. They didn't seem to get that the show he'd put on in which he'd drank Nanashi's (deliciously warm and smooth) blood was not just an act, but rather a day to day occurrence performed on hare or whatever raw meat he or Rolan managed to catch. Which was annoying; how was he supposed to terrify a person when they didn't take him seriously? He'd taken to leering and grinning down at them both at awkward times, the resulting awkwardness on their like an exotic desert to him.

They sounded again, louder this time as Peta rolled onto his feet. He found that standing was a chore; his legs were shaky, like elderly, thin wooden chair legs, as he began a slow hobble to the door. He'd been lazing about for more than four hours, so Peta wasn't too surprised that his legs were as they were. Either way, he smoothed out his long sleeved shirt, and hiked his pants up to where they were supposed to sit around his thin waist (they'd just about been ready to fall off, hanging from his narrow, bony hips dangerously, as though one of Phantom's daily groping sessions had been interrupted). Slender hands grasped the rusted, bronze handle as Peta called out croakily, "Rolan?"

"No, Nanashi!" The immediate, loud, ear grating answer burst through the thick door. Peta's eyes narrowed as the man continued, his head pounding from Nanashi's sudden shattering of the peace he'd surrounded himself in, "I am here to act as your therapist!" The thief sang.

Peta stared down at his toes, in the darkness, pointing them forward and back, and bending his knee carefully as he attempted to get the blood flowing into them easier and thus, his movements smoother, "I was not aware that such appointments were to be held in our private chambers." He remarked flippantly, as he rubbed his right knee with his right hand, the left still clasping the door's dirty handle.

"If you open the door and let me in, I'll explain what's happening to you."

Peta scowled at that very thought. He'd always turned prickly when it came to others invading his room. They weren't suited to it, they didn't belong. Peta hadn't designed or allocated any space for guests to fit in; he didn't receive many and it wasn't as though Rolan was overly intruding whilst visiting. The boy was often polite, introverted and kept his conversation short but incredibly detailed. Peta supposed he'd have had to learn how to do so; he wasn't a very patient person when it came to idiotic babbling that seemed to go around and around in circles before it dizzily went in a stumbled not-so-straight line directly into the topic that could have been examined much, much sooner.

It was with great determination that Peta managed to open the door enough for a small child to fit through, the door's rusted hinges whining as he peeked around it. He blinked his huge eyes, finding the light prodding them unpleasantly, "You will not go near the bed." He told the blonde thief that was smiling at him.

"Why?" He asked, his expression contorted into one of innocent curiosity, complete with raised eyebrows and pouted bottom lip. Nanashi's state didn't remain as it was for long as his lips slowly curled into a grin and asked obnoxiously, "Did you have a guest?"

"Rolan is my only guest," Peta replied curtly. He ignored the lecherous tone and implications as he considered the blonde human, examining with a quick once over. Nanashi was wearing his usual red and white garb, except for the disappearance of his cobalt scarf. His revealed, emerald eye held a hard glint, despite the catty grin that was tugging at Nanashi's mouth.

Peta's eyes slid to the floor as he closed his eyes, "And you now, I suppose." He admitted. Jerkily, as though he had planks of wood strapped to his legs, Peta moved out of the way, silently fuming over his legs and their stiffness, "Come in."

Nanashi did, confidently, as though it were him that owned the room and everything in it. Which Peta supposed he did; it was built into the mountains the Thieves Guild of Luberia and Nanashi was their leader. Hence, it was logical. Peta felt a bitter tang stain his pink tongue as he closed the door and enveloped them both in darkness, like a heavy, dark blanket did the people hiding under it. He hated the thought of owing the moron anything.

"Hey, Peta, you haven't been living in this darkness the entire time you've been here, have you?" Peta sought out the shadow stumbling in the darkness silently, his narrowed eyes following the long haired form from his place behind the closed door. He spied tinted icy blue hair bobbing as though in water as Nanashi felt around the room.

"I do not read in this light." He remarked solemnly and with a frown, "It's fairly pointless; I wouldn't be able to see the words."

"Well, that's a relief." Barely a breath past between Nanashi's words and the following sonnet created with ear shattering battering, curses and 'oof's that marked Nanashi's location within the cramped room, "Don't you have a lamp in here?" He grumbled from somewhere on the ground. Peta would have smirked had he not suspected that it was his boots Nanashi had stumbled over. Had they come out of the meeting unscathed? They were his only pair.

"I do." Peta sat himself on the bed, its wires whining sharply under his slight weight. He watched as the ignorant thief continued to fumble around the room in order to find a place to sit. Nanashi didn't seem worried about him attacking him, for good reason too. Peta had already told Rolan that he wouldn't harm anyone; Rolan wanted (and supposedly needed) him around. With Phantom gone and Rolan's large, wet eyes directed at him, Peta had agreed to accompany the young man, which was the reason he was living with the Luberian Thieves Guild in the first place. Peta felt a cruel coil of pleasure curl in his chest as Nanashi's frigid blue, haloed head disappeared from view and the sound of wood smashing into stone sounded about the dark, dank room. Peta's tone was patient, as though he were explaining something intricate to a small child, "Are you done? I spend a lot of time keeping this room tidy."

Peta listened intently as a few sighs and pained hums echoed around the room from Nanashi as the man rubbed as his hip, but didn't deign it necessary to reply. He straightened, "Hey, is there anyway you could have a light on in here?" A quiet, joking chuckle followed Nanashi's questions, like a moth followed a candle's glow.

"Not all of us live in the light." Peta returned evenly, "You are in my quarters; you will just have to put up with it."

Peta quickly decided that annoying people was amusing, as Nanashi grumbled about this and that and stumbled a bit more. It wasn't the first time Peta had purposely sought to start a verbal sparring match. He'd managed to include himself in one against Ginta during his counselling session with the blonde. He'd found it far more therapeutic to cause the child great embarrassment than to shame himself with talk of his own feelings. Out of habit, Peta found himself rifling through the information he'd devoured on Nanashi, ready to pick at the spots in his mind that seemed to be the most tender; his lack of memory and his less than admirable ability to woo many girls at the same time, being two of them.

Another loud bang echoed about the room, "You live in my mountain, _you _deal with it." Nanashi's tone was threaded with annoyance as he loudly pulled himself to his feet, "Where can I sit?"

"Stand."

He heard Nanashi mutter something as he continued to bend and feel and – Peta would have continued to find it amusing if the lout hadn't taken to groping his most treasured books from where they were laid out in the order that he read them on the chest of drawers beneath the window. Peta's eyes widened as Nanashi's hand was sliced with frigid moonlight, far too close to the window. He suddenly felt cold, as though he'd plunged into iced water.

"Alright, a little moonlight won't kill you," Nanashi murmured as the thief snapped his hand down, drawing the scratchy, yellow shirt down with it. The act played as though in slow motion in Peta's larger, hazel eyes, as though someone had thought it was amusing to pain him with the prolonged realisation that the moon - Phantom, he wasn't beside him. Nanashi dusted off his hands and peered around the room, a huge, pleased grin upon his face, "Ah, that's better. Now, Rolan said that – Peta?"

The idiot's voice was muffled, as though Peta had water swirling in and out of his ears whilst he spoke. He stared at the waning moon outside his window. It was bright, huge, pale and frigid and comforting and not and – Peta found himself gritting his teeth together as he frowned and felt (hurt, sadness, morbidity; he'd managed to avoid the moon's gaze for as long as he had because of them) and plummeted into his memories.

Phantom had once compared them both to the celestial beings that haunted the skies at all hours. Phantom had claimed that Peta was like the sun; golden, nurturing, yet strict and harsh all at once. According to Phantom, Peta aided the growth of many things; the Chess army, Rolan, his own knowledge and Phantom's strength because of said know how. Peta was like the sun because it burnt and Peta blistered with a passion that was as strong as Peta's was for information, for succeeding and for justice. He also didn't like the cold, which wasn't all that important when compared to the other aspects Phantom had listed.

He claimed to know Peta inside out and yet he thought of all that? Every time Phantom had brought the idea up, Peta had shucked it off; Phantom was a romantic at heart and as such, he'd led Peta to believing he didn't fully understand his implications. Peta didn't see himself as scalding. It was true that he thirsted for knowledge like a man in a desert did water, but he didn't aid in growth, didn't nurture, he wasn't as strict as he should have been. Peta examined the moon with a bitter glint in his hazel eyes. He couldn't help but decipher what Phantom's take of himself was, as the truth.

Phantom had thought he was most like the moon. He'd commented on how he was cold (mostly physically, but emotionally and mentally when it came to certain aspects about people and society too), on how he was like a blazing, cobalt fire amongst golden sparks, because being a zombie made him unique. Phantom had claimed that he brought a foreboding darkness to anyone he overlooked, causing them great distress or great wonder, depending on what his presence meant to the individual. Peta agreed for the most part; Phantom really did wreak havoc wherever he went. However, even the moon brought positives things to the world as well, ones that Phantom had allowed him to recite more than once. The moon was beautiful, easy to look at, an ornament that decorated the sky in the most elegant way, much like Phantom decorated the Chess Pieces with a startling classiness that caused people to stare in awe because of his beauty and then, later, at his strength. The moon brought light to an otherwise dark world, just as Phantom did in the lives of all the Chess Soldiers. A thread of bitterness tugged on Peta's heart; the sun wasn't classified as attractive; no one enjoyed looking at something that blinded them. Peta's frown carved itself deeper into his face; it was the moon that many admired, that people appreciated and loved. The sun wasn't comforting, what could a scalding ball in the sky possibly offer to reassure? The moon was with its soothing colour and cool appearance.

They were the juxtaposing sides of each other, simply put. Completely contradictory, no matter how Peta looked at it. Phantom was charming, chic and likable, whilst he was a – a _demon_, inhumane in all ways, including the way he looked. Phantom was strong, in body and in mind, whilst Peta only had his mind to rely on. Phantom had been human at one stage in his life, Peta had been a monster through out. Phantom had claimed that the sun had been his comfort whilst Peta ran his errands, while Peta had always found the moon to have been his only comfort whilst Phantom had slept away from his bed. The thread in his heart was pulled into an unbearable knot as Peta's mind, once again highlighted the thought that Phantom wouldn't be coming back anymore; Phantom was dead.

"Hey, Peta! Come one, man, I didn't think it'd really kill you!" Peta found himself grasped by the shoulders, as he was shaken roughly. He looked on with wide eyes as he found Nanashi less than an inch away from his face. He stared, watching as Nanashi's stern expression melting into another of his stupid, annoying smiles, "Ah, good. You had me scared for a second then; I thought that the light really had harmed you." He chuckled, to himself and withdrew his hands.

Peta didn't respond to his comment as he noted how his thin shoulders tingled with warmth. How odd. Was the feeling caused by the warmth of Nanashi's hands? Peta could barely remember the feeling of a hot-blooded being's touch. He allowed his lips to turn lax, so that they allowed him to neither smile nor frown, "This session, you aren't going to take me to Lestava castle?"

"Nope." Nanashi remarked as he shifted Peta's delicate books roughly (Peta felt his stomach flop uncomfortably; did he not know that some of those were ages old?!) and perched himself on top of the elderly draws. They creaked and wobbled horrendously beneath the thief's weight. Nanashi didn't seem to care though, as he kicked his legs absently, before leaning back against the cool wall. Peta folded his hands in his lap, as he shifted on the bed, so that his legs were hanging over the sides and he was sitting up as straight as a board. Despite his utter dislike for the man sitting across from him, he ought to be polite and posture and position had a lot to do with it. He lifted his head up high, his back straight as his eyes once again scanned Nanashi's being.

The thief was tinted a chilly blue, the golden buckles on his shirt and the jewels connected to them glimmering prettily in the moonlight. Nanashi continued talking throughout his examination, "Rolan says you aren't enjoying these sessions. I feel that it's my personal responsibility to make sure you do." Peta listened, yet didn't make any indication that he was. Nanashi continued after a moment's pause, "Since you're not being helpful, I asked Rolan for any information that could help us talk." Off handedly, Peta thought that for a fool, Nanashi was acting extremely maturely; one of his yellow-grey eyebrows rose in suspicion as the talk progressed, "He said that you aren't easy to talk to and that you're either too serious or too touchy. He also thinks that you don't like admitting to anything. So," Nanashi paused, most likely for dramatic effect, before he exclaimed with a huge grin, "I thought we'd play a game!"

Peta watched Nanashi's hands dance, as the blonde gestured and threw his hands in the air whilst he explained the rules, "I'll ask you questions and you'll answer them with either silence or an explanation. Alright? Silence means yes, explanation means no. Understand? It's a great idea, don't you think?"

Why not humour the obviously bored thief? Peta mused as he nodded; the man could prove to be entertaining despite his aggravating need to be exceedingly loud. Perhaps he could turn the tables and interrogate Nanashi instead? The thought of a challenge made Peta's lips quirk slightly.

"Alright! Let's get started!" Nanashi sang as he rolled his hands together, "Have you been sulking since your revival?"

Peta's immediate response to such a stupid question was to neglect it, however, his grateful brain immediately recalled the rules and he found his mouth opening and words falling from his lips like water did from an air-filled tap, "There is much for me to think about." He said ominously, hoping he'd left the entire topic open enough that Nanashi wouldn't pick out Phantom amongst the rubble in his mind.

Nanashi nodded, before he murmured, "How'd you find dying?"

"It was an odd experience; far from what it has been told to have felt like."

Again, Nanashi nodded, " I've heard people say it's like falling asleep, how was it for you?"

Peta didn't look away, his eyes scrutinizing the thief as he looked at him with a foolishly open expression and patiently waited. Peta would have snorted, had he not been examined during this interrogation; wasn't the ding-bat listening? "Odd." Peta reiterated blandly.

With the narrowing of Nanashi's visible, emerald eye, Peta could only suppose that he'd come to some sort of conclusion. Peta knew he was hard to deal with; he wasn't at all surprised that Rolan had warned Nanashi of this; the boy seemed to have grown quite fond of his new way of life, despite the absence of Phantom from it and despite all that Peta thought, the boy wanted him around.

"How are you coping?"

Nanashi's voice sounded distant. It took a mere moment for Peta's eyes to narrow as he realised he'd delved far too deep into his thoughts, "Excuse me?" He asked, politely.

The thief's lips turned down at the corners, into a rare frown, "How are you coping with Phantom's death and the defeat of the Chess Pieces?"

"I was under the impression that you would be asking closed ended questions." Peta questioned in return, as his eyes flew to the moon as a pang of hurt and anger erupted within his thin chest, and then to his long, slender fingered hands, "I'm unable to answer an open ended question with a simple yes or no. How am I to play by your rules if you do not follow them yourself?"

Nanashi shrugged, "I thought you'd appreciate variety."

"It seems as though you are not sure what to ask." Peta said, "Why question me on Phantom? I am sure you know where I stand and where I stood; I am only here now because Rolan has asked me to be."

Nanashi scowled. Peta found it looked unappealing on him, "You and Phantom were close, or so Rolan says. Galian also seems to think so. If he was your friend it's only natural that you'd miss him."

Peta scowled at his hands. _Miss him?_ Was that all that they all thought he felt? Peta wished to laugh bitterly; he didn't just miss him. He was down-right miserable! Phantom had been the reason for his very existence for a very long time; how could he not feel completely over-thrown. It was illogical; Peta had always believed that he was unable to grow as attached to anyone as he had to Phantom. But he had, to an extremely dangerous degree. His stubbornness to _not _like Phantom after he'd first met him had been his complete undoing as he remembered hating the man's annoying carelessness and his graceful ways and wistful smiles and his willingness to be entertained and then finding himself thinking of them far too much. Peta threw the thought from his mind; Phantom could no longer annoy him as he'd done anymore and it would do him no good if Nanashi realised he was wallowing in self-pity, in self-loathing and was heading straight down the path of depression. Then he'd have to put up with more _therapy. _And that was the last thing Peta wanted.

"Is that a yes?"

His mind flooded with his first conversation with Rolan, like an aged collection of photographs, their conversation cut into tattered remarks as Rolan told him of Phantom's death, talk and about how he had wept for him. Peta wished he could do the same; to blubber was to show you cared after all. But alas, he didn't seem to possess tear ducts, let alone the will to cry and he sorely lacked the ability to talk of his feelings and their relationship. If Nanashi wanted him to poor his emotional state and troubles onto the floor between them both, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

Peta blinked at the man across the room from him, his eyes large, his chest sore, his hands feeling tingly from his insistent rubbing them together, "You have yet to answer my question." He replied.

Nanashi flicked his wrist, baring his palm to the ceiling as he repeated, "You miss Phantom." He seemed keen to find out whether that was the case, Peta realised, as the man stared at him scrutinisingly.

Peta put his chin to his chest, realising his mistake, as he hastily stilled his hands. He was used to ignoring questions that made him uncomfortable, filling the space where his answer was supposed to be with silence until the questioner got sick of waiting and either asked another or left him be, "I knew him for a long time." He reasoned quietly, as though he were a child explaining why he'd decided to steal sweets from a market's stall, "We were…" He paused.

He wanted to say 'lovers' because that was what they were. However, Peta had been told that Phantom had simply told everyone that they were friends (most likely to honour his vow to Peta because Peta didn't like to admit that he had emotional attachments). Would it hurt to admit to their most impure relationship now that Phantom was gone and it had only ever bothered Peta?

He didn't get to ponder it for as long as he would have liked; Nanashi cut in, "He was a comrade? A friend?"

Silenced answered him as Peta stared at the floor. His brows were crinkled, his mouth pulled down into a small frown whilst his eyes were unusually hard, as though he were a judge sentencing a criminal to death. Old habits died hard, Peta supposed. Nanashi would have to work out what his stubbornness and behaviour meant on his own. Let him think as he wanted; as long as he didn't attempt to make Peta 'better' the demon hadn't a single qualm with the situation.

"Rolan's worried about you."

Peta's eyes lifted to Nanashi's face. He found the admonishing glint in his emerald eye annoying; more so than the way his blonde hair fell over his face; who did the thief think he was, to think he was able to talk to him as though he were a old chum giving good advice? He frowned, "He worries over the smallest things." Peta replied insipidly, "To have him worry over me is nothing special." Because Rolan worried over kittens in the rain, flowers getting too much sun and basically everything else, he was nothing special. Phantom had been the only light within Rolan's life; Peta served only as a passing tree, great to run around and relax with, providing food and knowledge and shelter, however when it all came down to it, the moon was the thing Rolan admired with all of his far too soppy heart.

Nanashi's eyebrow furrowed from underneath his scarlet bandana, as he quickly remarked, "You shouldn't talk like that. He considers you family. You know, a comrade?"

"Ah, yes," Peta said, his voice a whispered hissed; he was growing extremely thin-skinned with Nanashi. An unpleasant smirk found itself upon his thin lips as his eyes widened and the iris and pupil thinned to pin pricks. He was feeling especially cruel and the shocked look on Nanashi's face was delicious, "He would. I did raise him for six years of his life. Much like Galian did you, don't you agree?"

The thief's reaction was immediate as he glowered and frowned. Peta felt satisfaction bloom in his chest; how'd the dolt like being questioned? How'd he like being pried open like a chest decorated in dulled, silver locks?

"You didn't abandon your family." The blonde replied levelly, "And Galian's learnt from his mistakes; he's a better man now."

"So it seems," Peta pried, "How do you know for sure? Can you read his soul?"

"Can you?"

Peta grinned a grin that was a shadow of the ones he used to wear, sadistic and full of insanity, "Ah, you see. I don't need him to be 'better' as you call him. You do. Your view of him has been warped by your need to know that he has changed from the selfish, power hungry man he has always been."

Nanashi's face was pale, his eyes wide and his pupils thin. Oh, how Peta enjoyed this! Tormenting the weak of mind was so much fun! His mind ran amok with his following remark, being sure to make it as sharp as he could manage.

"Why, how do you know he isn't simply leeching off your good graces? Waiting for another, stronger force to rise in this world so that he can up and abandon you and your comrades again? I'm sure I'm not the first to think of it, have your men come to you with suspicions?"

Nanashi glared, his mouth in a pressed into a tight line and his brows furrowed as he thought and worked through his words. Peta watched with a satisfied grin. This was how it was supposed to be! Just like old times when he caused the mind torment whilst Phantom tortured the hapless person with his presence alone. He couldn't help but wonder if Phantom would have been proud of his display of his manipulative qualities, the ones Peta had allowed the man to use on a daily basis.

Suddenly, a manly chuckle pierced threw the awkward silence Peta had been soaking up like a table rag. His eyes widened as a smile appeared on Nanashi's face. That wasn't supposed to happen, damn the idiot and his inability to stay down for more than a few minutes! Why couldn't he just crumble inside, like any _normal _human?

"Ah, I know what you're trying to do." He said slowly, the smile spreading to a grin and further, "So Rolan was right, you really don't like discussing yourself?" With Peta's undoubtedly silly expression and a few bewildered blinks, Nanashi continued, "Oh well, you're just going to have to get used to it. I'll be back every day from now on, until you admit what Phantom was to you."

Peta watched speechlessly as Nanashi bounded to his feet, his boots tapping against the cold stone floor sharply as he grinned and headed towards the elderly door. Peta watched him leave, his mouth like a fish's as he attempted to speak. Everyday until he admitted it? Until he admitted that Phantom and him were lovers and that he wasn't coping well and he really didn't want to be anywhere that Phantom wasn't? He wished he could convincingly doubt the thief doing so, but at the stubborn stiffness in his back, Peta doubted that he wouldn't.

"Why?" He found himself mumbling, "What makes you care so much about my mental health?"

Nanashi turned, his visible eye twinkling, "Rolan's becoming quite popular amongst the ladies. I even dare to claim that he'll gain more admirers than me." He grinned, "If the ladies realise he's unhappy, they'll come to me with frigid looks and murderous intents. They'll think I've been bullying him." He shrugged absently, as though it really wasn't all that big a problem. "That's how women are after all, all jealousy. They think the world revolves around them."

"I doubt that." Peta replied, as his mind sorted through the information given to him. So Nanashi was only forcing him into embarrassment because he was worried about his own well being? Perhaps there was hope for the man; no selfless fool lived long.

"You'll see. If you don't cheer up quickly, Rolan's mood's just going to keep diving deeper and deeper and I'll have women swarming me. And it won't be in the way I like."

"Why is it important for me to tell you of my relationship with Phantom? Perhaps he has nothing to do with my state." Peta questioned, idly.

Nanashi sobered for a moment, "In order to fix a problem, you have to acknowledge that you have one." He said, as though he were reciting it from a book or a speech.

"I do not need your help in order to realise that."

"If you say so, Peta." Nanashi waved his right hand absently, "I can keep secrets," He offered, "So you don't need to worry about that."

Secrets? He wanted Peta to tell him his _secrets? _About Phantom and his actions and lives and how they'd basically lived off each other for longer than Peta could remember? Peta flicked his own hand, a strange click forcing his mouth open as he gushed acidly, "You? You are the leader of the Thieves Guild of Luberia, which immediately gives the impression that your morals are shoddy, you are a womanising lout-"

"Hey, now, there's no need to be vicious!"

Peta ignored him as he continued in his rant, his feelings of frustration and annoyance swirling in him like monstrous clouds in a storm ridden sky, "Who seems to be afraid of commitment as you have yet to court a single female, yet have tasted many more than you should have in your short period of time here. You haven't a single solemn bone in your body and you haven't any shame to speak of. All you are is a pretty boy with a fan-base. _You _keep _my _secrets? You are delusional to think I would reveal them at all, Nanashi."

Peta was panting by the end of his speech. It had to be the most he'd said at once in more than two months. He felt oddly better, like his chest wasn't as tight. How strange. He'd only ever felt so relieved when he cleaned the raw, pink flesh of a rabbit's milky bones. He stared at Nanashi, finding himself dazed at his own actions.

Nanashi only smiled, a hand poised on his hip. He was washed with a cool blue, the moon's rays highlighting him, making him seem ghostly. His emerald eye glimmered, "You're too uptight, Peta. You're going to end up saying something you don't mean to if you keep everything bottled up. As the chief of Luberia, it's my responsibility to see to the mental and physical health of all those beneath me," He grinned, his immaculate teeth gleaming, "You're the last one I have to attend to."

Peta scowled. How embarrassing. He could barely remember the last time he'd lost his words like that. He usually kept them under lock and key. He found Nanashi beaming lecherously down at him a moment later, "And pretty, am I? Are you flirting, Peta? You're not that bad looking yourself, your eyes included!"

Peta felt his skin flush uncomfortably, "I think not!"

"Aw, don't be like that! I'm sure you look lovely when you're actually enjoying yourself!"

Peta wouldn't have been surprised if his skin had caught alight as he hissed, "Out!" The thief grinned as he turned, which only caused Peta to fume even more at Nanashi's foolishness. The half-wit! Was he as blind as Phantom?

"Ho, ho! Should you actually mean what you say Peta, I'm always willing to listen, there's no such thing as too many admirers! Of course, you might have to wait until I'm done with my current company; the ladies just can't keep their hands off me!" He laughed boisterously, and smiled even more so. Peta wondered if it were possible for a man's face to tear in half because he smiled too wide. Perhaps he'd have to experiment on Nanashi; the man enjoyed committing the annoying act enough.

"I very much doubt that, now, remove yourself from the room. I wish to sleep." It was a weak excuse, however, any excuse would do as long as the annoying man was no longer within his sights! Peta had no doubt that his cheeks were orange, his eyes were wide and his lips agape. He'd never been good at receiving compliments; he hadn't received many and hadn't been able to practice and the thief's continuing teasing only made him wish to crumble into dust all that much more.

The door slammed behind Nanashi, his maddening giggles petering off into silence slowly as Peta lifted a slender hand to his right cheek and willed the fire gathered there to burn out. He hoped the thief didn't make a habit out of making such remarks; they always caused red to scatter itself over his cheeks, no matter how much he wanted to ignore them.

He inhaled slowly, finding his chest feeling a bit lighter than it had been, before Nanashi's unannounced visit. How strange… Had blowing up as shamefully as he had really caused him to feel better? He'd always found that they made him feel silly whenever he'd ranted in front of Phantom; the man would always laugh and tease him. It had always been quite aggravating. Peta felt the need to test this theory. He needed to see if what Nanashi said was true, that talking made you feel better.

His mind's clogs creaked and clanged as they began to work in overload, listing all the things he'd need mentally. He'd need a subject, of course, someone he could talk easily too. A picture of Rolan swamped in goody goodness immediately popped into Peta's mind and he hurriedly pushed it away. Rolan's emotions were far too turbulent, to use him as the subject would cause more of a headache than satisfactory results.

Galian? No; The man was about as willing to talk about his problems as Peta was about his own.

Ash? Definitely not; he'd have the man jabbering on about those wretched brats of his before he got to what information Peta wanted off him.

Vizel? No; he didn't know where the man was.

Kouga? No; he was far too thick to understand what information Peta wanted from him. And Peta doubted that he'd be willing to explain.

Pinocchio? No; Peta wasn't sure if the feelings that the puppet felt could be classified as the same type of feelings he felt. Which was maddening; he would have been a good choice in subject otherwise.

Ian? No; he was off with Ash and his girlfriend. Peta hadn't a single doubt that he and Gido were making up for the time they'd spent apart; acting like normal, healthy couples did. The thought caused Peta to turn bitter for a moment, before he forcibly continued in his listing.

Chimera? No; she was dead now; able to do what Peta hadn't. Her suicide had been obvious; she'd come back with her deformities, with her heart filled with darkness, much like his own had. Peta almost envied her, yet he did not; only cowards took their own life.

Candice? _No! _The very thought made Peta glower at the wall mercilessly; he'd prefer to use himself as the test subject than that jealousy infested cow. They would have ended up in an all out brawl before they managed to talk about her _feelings. _And when they did, Peta knew it wouldn't be the ones he wanted her to talk about that she'd explain. Candice hadn't taken to losing Phantom to him all that well. Though he was sure that should Phantom have been at all interested in her female, flirtatious ways, she could have been able to catch his heart and mind instantly. She just didn't seem to understand that Phantom preferred a challenge when he sought out a lover; one that didn't fall to his knees in front of him and basically begged to be taken. Perhaps that was what Peta had done wrong in the beginning of their relationship?

Peta scowled. Perhaps it would be best if he went and talked and played his own test subject? He did not want to talk to Nanashi about Phantom, he didn't want to talk to Nanashi at all, but if it meant that his curiosity would be silenced _and _the witless thief would leave him alone, then why not?

With a sharp whine, Peta stood up from his place on the lumpy bed and slowly made his way to the drawers Nanashi had taken refuge on a mere five minutes before, picking up the ripped, yellow shirt along the way. He carefully, tenderly shifted the books over to the left hand side of the wooden box and climbed on top of it. With a great amount of caution, Peta stood up and hooked the shirt up again, muttering a quiet, "Goodnight, Phantom" as he did. He carefully climbed down from the drawers, clasping it's top for dear life as it wobbled violently, as though a raging bull attempting to kick his rider off.

He slinked back over to the bed, noticed his feet were frozen for the first time as he tucked himself under the thick blankets. There was more than one dagger of moonlight piercing the darkness of the room now. There was another stabbing itself into the wall above the bed, whilst another pierced Peta's scrawny chest, right below his left collar bone.

A small frown found his lips as he found himself floating through happier memories, his eyes closing as he sighed and steadied his breathing. Perhaps Nanashi was right, he thought as a younger Phantom ghosted a the back of his hand over his left cheek. He shifted to make himself more comfortable, carefully tucking his hair over his shoulder. He couldn't go on as he was; moping, sulking, crumbling from the inside out. It was illogical to do so. Phantom wasn't so selfish as to wish him to suffer, even if it meant that the love Peta had once held dearly had to be pushed aside for other things. Rolan, for instance, could fill more of his weak heart than he usually did.

He needed to amuse himself, to find something to occupy his forever ticking mind. Peta had barely thought of Phantom whilst Nanashi was here, as though Nanashi had acted like a repellent for them all; perhaps the blonde man did have a positive effect on him. Perhaps he'd really be able to help.

Peta circled the idea in his head; he'd see if talking helped him. He'd document the entire procedure and how it progressed and felt. At the same time, he'd slowly dull down and push his feelings for Phantom aside so that newer and far more alive things could occupy the mind space Phantom had lived in. He hoped for a dreamless sleep that night; that way he wouldn't wake up with the hope of finding the shorter man beside him, his nose buried in his thin neck. It was the least Phantom could do for him.

* * *

**Woffy: **In the words of Emperor Kuzco from _The Emperor's New Groove:_ "It's my birthday present to me! –_hug, sigh_- I'm so happy." It was my birthday a little over a week ago (the 29th of September) and I thought, considering I have never really given myself a birthday present before, why not? It was my 18th too, so I'm considered a legal adult. Now I can drink (ew), smoke (ew), join adultfanfiction(dot)net (yay!). If you're over there look out for my MAR work, you'll know me right away. This one will be my first MAR lemon fic up there. 

My apologies, _vixen1991_. Everything was dumped upon me this past two weeks and I wasn't able to post this on time. However, I'm pleased to say I'm a lot happier with this than what I was. I hope you (all) enjoyed the first chapter (though I still can't write Nanashi to save my life).

Also, I'm mixing the little I know about the anime in with the manga. I apologise if things don't make sense.

Reviews make this authoress happy; she wishes to improve and entertain; help me do this by leaving comments and critique.


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